Story of a lost journalist

March 20, 2008

ghost in the house

Filed under: Imagination — Cris @ 12:05

It was 2 AM in the night and I was preparing to turn in [quite early for someone following US time zone but what the heck I thought I will find out what India looked like in day time]. I was brushing my teeth when a grandingly striking, strikingly grand idea came to me. I could pretend to be a ghost! With uncombed hair and kajol coming down all over my face, I had the appearance ready. Some say I was born to be a ghost. Ignore the less bright ones I always say.

The night was young. And here I was, a young, terrifying, horrifying ghost, ready to drink some tea. Blood blood not tea, my ghostly thirst corrected me. I was ready to destroy the world. I needed background music. The dogs in the neighborhood seemed to be early-sleepers. So I did the howling myself. “Aaauuuuuuu”. Hmm I sounded good. Maybe I should try my luck in movies.

I sneaked around the big haunted house, ready to pounce on the first innocent unsuspecting victim. I went around the rooms making horror-movie noises. “Ting ting ting….” I opened the doors slowly. “Tirrrrrrr”
I found 2 sleeping humans. One of them was snoring. I gave out my bloody laugh. “Buhahaha”
That did it. I went too far with it. The sleeping human who was snoring woke up and stared at me. When I saw he was about to open his mouth, I fled. I was not a coward ghost but theories suggest a snoring father whose snores are interrupted might not find a ghost story at 2:30 AM interesting. I didnt wait to test the theory out.
Back in my room, I panted heavy pants waiting for footsteps to follow me and knock at my door. I heaved a sigh when I heard some beautiful musical snoring from the next room. The best sound in the whole world – snores – yes sir nothing can beat them.

I knew ghosts didnt sleep at nights. So I went into my special transforming machine and changed back to human. I needed my human brain to work so I had a few readymade answers to the few questions in the morning concerning a night prowler in the house who woke up people to say buhaha. I knew the answer I’d say. I’d have my most grave expression on and say “I want to  break this to you lightly Dad, but there are no such things as ghosts”

Disclaimer: The story in this strip is not entirely from real life. The few similarities between the character and me is entirely coincidential.

1 Comment »

  1. Iris was her name, atleast I called her so.. She was my flat mate in my long 3 years of loneliness.. She proclaims her presence as gentle breeze and sometimes a wirlwind, depending on her moods. I never has seen her, but she was always there for me. I used to talk to her and asked her opinions she always responded some times with the blink of the bulb and sometimes with the flight of a paper.. Never Imagined a face for her now I got one for my lovely ghost..

    Comment by Javed Miandad — January 11, 2012 @ 17:50 | Reply

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